Not Exactly a Fairytale
by V.reve
Summary: He would never have to stop himself and ask why he had never noticed her before, because tonight she was someone else. "It was nice not to know you."


**Author's Notes**: Dedicated to DreamerInTheMist who may never read this story, but made all the difference in how I write. A thanks goes out to xLittleMissReality for beta-ing this and giving this story it's first review. Thanks for being so patient with all my...impatience. XD

**Note**: I realize I have fictionalized some of the conditions described in this story, but it's all in good fun.

**Disclaimer**: I do not own _Phineas and Ferb_, nor am I making profit from this fan fiction.

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_She discovered that the matter with the Prince Charming theory wasn't that it was rare occurrence, but that such a man never existed in the first place._

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><p><strong>Not Exactly a Fairytale<strong>

By Víra Reve

Fact: Ginger Hirano always gave good answers. If you asked why she wanted to be doctor, she would give you a thorough fifteen minute explanation that never fell back on the "because my mother was one" excuse. If you asked why she chose to stay in Chicago, she would give a layout of the city, street by street, describing the Windy City in all its fervent color. If you asked why she had an egg, yoghurt, and banana for breakfast every morning, she would detail the benefits of a healthy first meal to jump start your day. It really was no wonder that she had done well in Danville High School's speech class. Ginger Hirano always gave good, self-assured answers to even the hardest questions, and often asked questions in return. It was a continuous cycle that never stopped and had never been broken. But if all this was true, then why couldn't she confidently answer her own self-imposed question: was she jealous?

No, she most certainly was not.

"Agh!"

Ginger Hirano was perfectly happy.

At least this was what she kept telling herself.

In a fit of exasperation, she kicked off her high heels and plopped herself on the hard ledge of a stone fountain. She could hear her mother's voice in the back of her mind to be gentle with her brand new dress. She didn't really care. Her dress could rip for all that mattered, and she wouldn't give a damn. From her perch on the hard rock edge, she could hear the smooth music of the band and she could feel the cheerful aura from all the well-wishers reflected in the lamps that illuminated the night.

Now she wasn't throwing a fit per se. She was happy to be at this celebration. Really, she was. The wedding was a long time in the making and it didn't seem to come fast enough. It was just that her feet were dead sore from her heels, her long black hair was being uncooperative and was falling from its meticulously done up-do, and at the moment she deeply loathed Mexican beauties. Ginger Hirano didn't like to complain.

Much.

"I hate him," she announced childishly. How dare he ruin her evening like that! That no good, rotten, devil-sent, spineless, son of a—

Stop.

She relented, any further and she would have detracted her vocabulary to that of a two year old. It must be the alcohol, she asserted. She was usually more level-headed, but in the light of the occasion she had allowed herself a few drinks. Not that she was tipsy by any means, but alcohol "clearly" was the logical explanation for this.

-Breathe in-_Breathe out-_

-Breathe in-_Breathe out-_

Stupid hormones.

She needed to go over this sensibly, starting at the root of her proble-_ahem_-issue.

Actually it wasn't actually _his_ fault to begin with. He was an innocent bystander when it came to his own personal involvement, which was basically to say that he had no idea what was going on in her head. How could she blame guy when he didn't have a clue? She supposed that perhaps he annoyed her. He just had to be so…so…so perfect! So freakishly perfect. He was comparable to every girl's dream guy. He was sweet, good natured, charming, selfless, adorable, and smart. He could be still be shy and nervous every once in a while, but people found it endearing. And to top things off, she frowned, he was filthy rich now; it nauseated her that this could be added to his liked attributes. Not to mention that he was good-looki-_No!_

She closed her right hand in a fist and rapped her head. _You idiot! You are supposed to be over him. What would your mother say if she knew that you were still pinning over that boy? How long has it been since you first had a crush on him? Ten, thirteen, __**sixteen **__years? You are sickening._

"Stupid. Stupid. Stupid," she muttered bitterly to herself.

The sad and horrifying truth? After sixteen years, Ginger Hirano still liked Baljeet Rai.

Ginger was disgusted with herself. Here she was, fresh out of medical school, considered the most ambitious student among her classmates, and she still felt butterflies for _some boy_. Naturally it was a given that at twenty-six she would probably feel attraction to the other sex, her mother had educated her well enough on that area (without anything too mentally scaring), but the fact she felt weak in the knees _specifically_ around him was enough wipe out a smidge of her self-respect. She didn't think it was fair that he could still make her feel this way without any effort.

In all fairness, while she could admit to an infatuation with him as a child, she hadn't been aware that she still harbored feelings for him. It started, she figured, when she was about nine years old and decided that he was cute. For the first time ever, she proudly placed an 'I Just Saw a Cute Boy' patch on her Fireside Girl sash only to have it ripped off seconds later. The same motions happened again, and again, and again. It became a normal occurrence to catch sight of a Fireside Girl walk up to Ginger to confiscate the patch. It was a crime, they insisted, that she considered Baljeet attractive when others like Ferb or Phineas existed. During her tenure in middle school, when she became sure that she was in love with him, they intervened. By the time she had graduated from Danville High School, she had matured enough to write Baljeet off as simply a past crush. Yes, she still daydreamed about him, and felt the same attraction but she assumed it was simply something that she would grow out of. It had been at least seven years since she had admitted Baljeet was cute, and he showed no signs of noticing her exclusively…or ever. Besides like it or not, summer had just begun, and when it ended she would be on a plane headed for Claremont, California. Time like this should be spent making the best memories with friends, not waiting for an oblivious boy (because unfortunately not everyone was like Phineas and Isabella). College was a whole new experience in itself. In the midst of the pandemonium she called school, she forgot him as she grew wrapped up in her studies. Pomona's campus was like its own little bubble and she almost forgot the world outside it. Furthermore, when she stayed in Chicago to attend medical school, her institution of choice demanded all her energy and waking hours. Not to mention that she'd also gotten a job to pay for her apartment, food, and other necessities.

However, she didn't regret all the time she spent secluded in her chair at the library, surrounded by piles of textbooks, taking classes in the summer, or staying overtime at the hospital during her residency, because it paid off. Within two months she was going to be _Ginger Hirano, M.D.,_ cardiothoracic surgeon at the University of Chicago. She may not have been Stacy Hirano, current Minister of Commerce in Uruguay and drastically rocking the political scene at the same time, but she was doing pretty damn well at making a name for herself. She was on top of the world and it was icing on her proverbial cake, three months ago, to receive an invitation to Isabella and Phineas's wedding. After twenty years, the two were finally tying the knot. Life was good.

One thing she had not accounted for was him to change the prospects of her evening. Needless to say, it had crossed her mind once that all her old friends would be at the celebration, but she just hadn't been expecting..._this_.

It started at the reception. She had been listening to Holly tell the girls where she bought her dress when—_Oh my lord_. Chatting with a huge hulk of a guy, who could only be Buford, was a face that was familiar, but not quite so. They called him the next Bill Gates, a force and brain to be reckoned with. They called him Einstein whereas they deemed the Flynn-Fletcher boys the next Da Vincis. He was quickly becoming a legend in his work with in the sciences. He was Baljeet Rai.

When she last saw him in person, it was during the summer after their graduation. Back then he was still a boy, still leaning on the scrawny side, but now he most definitely looked like a man. The past several years had been kind to him. Seeing him again, she was able to see what the pictures in the news articles failed to show, not only has he grown a few inches taller, but he had most certainly become attractive.

"Checking out Baljeet?"

She whipped her head around to look at a smirking Adyson, and a chuckling Katie and Holly.

She sniffed, "Of course not, I was just surprised to see how different he and Buford looked after so many years."

Adyson's right eyebrow quirked up, "Oh, really now? Sure looked to me like your eyes stayed focused on the same area. Unless, you know, you were looking only at Buford, but you might have to explain that to Milly. Now if you were staring at _Baljeet_… then I won't blame you—he has become rather attractive." Katie and Holly backed her up by vehemently nodding their heads.

Ginger rolled her eyes. "Really mature guys. Knock it off; it's been a long time since I liked him."

When she gave them a glare of warning, Holly just put her hands up in surrender, "Chillax Ginger—"

"Chillax?" Katie interrupted her friend with a gasp of mock horror. "Holly, I can't believe you-"

"Katie, shut up. This is not the time for language lessons," Holly remarked with a roll of her eyes.

"_Anyway_," Holly gave her attention back to Ginger, "we're just warning you that Isabella's cousins have their eye on him so if you want to make a move you'd better do it now."

Ginger looked at her friends incredulously.

…

After several long moments she spoke, "I look at a man _once_ and you're giving me advice?"

"Honey," Adyson placed her hand on her should, "we've only known you for the last twenty years. In a time frame like that, you're bound to pick up on a thing or two."

Slightly irritated that her friends could star spurting such nonsense, Ginger stood up from her seat and gave her friends a resolute look, "Alright, I'll see you guys in a few. I'm just going to find the rest of the girls and say hi to the happy couple."

And that was that.

At least that was that, until several hours later. After dinner, dancing, and a few drinks, Ginger left the crowded dance floor to sit at an abandoned table to catch her breath. The doors of the room were closed, letting the heat accumulate in the room, and Ginger had half a mind to get up and open them herself, except she didn't want to leave her chair. She relaxed in her seat and signaled the passing waiter for a glass of champagne. Sipping it lightly and savoring the flavor as she'd been taught, Ginger slowly scanned the room. In the middle of the dance floor, the couple of the night swayed side to side. They were closed up in their own little world, living in their moment-a true personification of happiness. Off a little to their left, Ginger caught sight of a few of her friends holding hands and giggling together just like they did in high school. They swayed in a funky, off-beat way and Ginger was sure that they probably hadn't even noticed the music change to a slow rhythm. It was like they were in high school all over again. Laughing, dancing, and paying no heed to the surroundings. God, she really missed seeing those girls. Had it really been so long since the retired Fireside troop #46231 were all together? She caught sight of green hair somewhere in the crowd and knew that Ferb was in their fulfilling his best man duties to the highest extent. Buford was off in the corner dancing with Milly. Django was 'attempting' to get a dance from Adyson. And Irving—_Irving_? What was he doing here? She shuddered to herself, some things were better off not knowing.

"_¿__Un baile m__á__s, por favor mi amor_?"

Ginger looked over to her right to see a pretty young Mexican woman near her own age attempting to some poor bloke to dance with her. She couldn't tell who it was in the darkened room, but the man seemed to be trying to evade the woman.

"Lucia, we've danced for the past hour. Can I please just sit down for a bit?"

The girl bit her lip, before leaning up next to her companion's ear. With a flirtatious grin, she whispered something in his ear.

Ginger brushed her hair away from her left ear to try and catch what the woman was saying, but wasn't able to catch anything when the man started to cough loudly.

"Okay, okay I'll dance. Just…"

The feisty woman hurried her partner to the floor and Ginger watched in amused fascination. A fast cumbia played next and she watched as Lucia led her partner through basic steps. -_Hold on-_

Ginger briefly choked on her champagne. The Lucia girl's companion was Baljeet? But that was just one girl…didn't Holly mention that several Garcia girls were chasing Baljeet?

"_Baljeet_!"

"_Mi vida_!"

"_Mi novio_!"

"_Cariño_!"

"_Mi corazon_!"

Darn it…She spoke too soon. Five girls came out of nowhere to flock an unsuspecting Baljeet. All around, they begged him for a dance. Baljeet stood alarmed until Lucia, waved offhandedly to her relatives to back off.

_He's mine,_ her face read.

Ooh_…_there must be something going on between those two because that girl was definitely laying her claim on him. When they back off, Lucia raised her hand to her mouth to hold a giggle and fluttered her long eyelashes, using her other hand to pull Baljeet up to her for another dance. Lucia looked ecstatic. Baljeet looked somewhat distracted. And Ginger?

Frankly, Ginger was annoyed. That girl was practically _hanging_ off Baljeet.

"Un baile más, por favor _my butt_," she mimicked. Then Celine Dion started playing…

Lucia settled her head down on Baljeet's chest, and Ginger tightened her hold on her glass. _She_ brought her right hand up to trail along Baljeet's face, and Ginger furiously grinded her teeth. _She_ moved her head to whisper in his ear alluring, and she slammed her glass down. Champagne sloshed out onto the table top. And when Lucia angled her head and kissed Baljeet on the cheek, Ginger had had enough. All this love rubbish was getting to her.

She got up and walked out as fast as she could without making anything apparent. When she was long past the door, she spotted a path trailing off towards the Inn's back. Opting to follow it and blow off some steam, she made her way over, agitation marking her every step.

(Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned?

Well said Mr. Congreve, well said.)

~xXxXx~

So here she was having abandoned her best friend's wedding reception to pout. When she considered the situation, this didn't sound like such a mature idea. It was the day Isabella had been dreaming for as long as Ginger could remember, and she wasn't even there to support her.

What a great friend she turned out to be.

She sighed, oh well, she probably wasn't the ideal party guest at the moment and it would be best she stayed until she could sufficiently hold herself without wanting to crack anyone's skull. And now that she thought about it, her feet were really aching. She brought her feet up to her to rub them cautiously. Thankfully they hadn't formed any blisters.

Sighing she lied down against the fountain's retaining wall.

Listening to the steady fall of water, she had an epiphany that made her grimace.

Everyone was dropping like flies. She didn't understand quite enough the fixation that everyone had with love. When they were ten, the only ones anyone ever thought would get together were Phineas and Isabella. Yet one by one her closest friends were giving in to playing the turbulent game of affections. Isabella had gone off and married Phineas. Milly was dating Buford. Adyson and Django were…well she wasn't sure what they were… but those two were oozing with enough unresolved sexual tension to blow several capillaries. And even quiet Ferb had charmed his way into the heart of some ex-goth girl. Hell, all her roommates from undergrad were in serious relationships.

She observed all her friends leap in front of cupid's arrow, but she hadn't felt the need to take the same jump. When she was younger, she had dreamed of love. Even when her mother cautioned her to fairytale ideals, Ginger continued to dream of a boy who could make her happy inside-and-out. Someone who had the power to sweep her off her feet and make her weak in the knees. Except at twenty-six, love had become a simple novelty. Her family, friends, and work were her life. It was her duty to support her sister as she made her political breakthroughs, to care for her mom as she neared seniority, and to be the stronghold for her friends. She loved the thrill she got when she helped in the operating room and saved a life. It made her feel valuable though many of her girlfriends insisted that love made one priceless. But if she was saving lives, than didn't that make her pretty pricey? When was the last time she had been in a serious relationship? Never. She shrugged to herself. Perhaps she wasn't made for love anyway, but it was fine. She had a caring mother and sister, a cool brother-to-be, the best of friends, and a fantastic well-paying job that she was lucky to love.

So why did she feel like the makings for a heroine in a romantic comedy?

Nope, she got up and started pacing her way across the wall, that type of thing was irrational. It was a basic fact of life that happy endings did not exist. _Así es la vida _or_ C'est la vie _her mother would say. Stories like _The Shop around the Corner _and _Breakfast at Tiffany's _were simply spurts of creativity that held no middle ground with the natures of reality.

Instinctively she took off the ring _Obaa-chan_ had given to her. It was a simple wooden ring with the Hirano crest that Ginger's grandfather had made for her deceased grandmother as a copy of the Western engagement rings. She twirled it rapidly between her fingers; a sure sign, Stacy constantly insisted, that meant she was peeved.

Even if this _were_ some sort of romantic movie, Ginger thought, she would have met someone already. She would have some bloody fantastic, who-knows-what, love story that would have made everyone impossibly jealous. And if she wasn't with the guy right now, it was because he was wooing her or whatever it was they were supposed to do. Why, if this was a movie, she would have gotten the boy _long_ ago.

Or she would be slumped up against the fountain crying her eyes out; instead she was pacing the wall, staring at the stars, and thinking of insignificant things. If she was in a movie, the sky would probably rain right about now, wash away her make-up, and somehow she would look magically gorgeous. Then Mr. Right would come calling her name and they would kiss and live happily ever after.

Unfortunately, her make-up was water proof so rain would be useless. And happily-ever-after was just some Disney jargon that wasn't even historically accurate. Then again, who wanted to tell children that Sleeping Beauty was impregnated and abandoned by her prince who came back only as his mother was attempting to eat her? Or that Prince Charming only fell for Cinderella because she looked incredibly rich? The idiotic prince couldn't even remember how she looked and had to rely on a stupid shoe. And how do you explain to a six year old that all those fantasied happy endings were part of a mid-twentieth century marketing to improve domesticity in households? Well, her mother had done it….

Life was not a fairytale.

With the ring still moving nimbly between her fingers, she stood glaring at the fountain in front of her and decided that real life sucked.

_Plop. _

"What?" Ginger instantly looked at the fountain's water.

"_Oh God no_." Floating to the bottom was _Obaa-chan'_s ring. She spun around to run back for help when she remembered something her mom used to tell.

'_Ginger don't play with your chopsticks in the water! The water will make the wood swell up, get ruined, and I'll have to buy new ones.'_

Oh no. She had to get that thing out of there fast. It was sixty-something years and who knew what that chlorine ridden water could do to it. Shit. Shit. Shit.

By the time, she got help and ran back it would take at least several minutes. Then she would have to wait for someone to find a cleaning net, and not to mention the time that would be wasted in fishing it out.

She'd have to fish it out herself. Maybe this was karma's way of punishing her for having alcohol. After tonight, she vowed, she was never going to drink again.

"Please Lord, if anyone gets caught, make sure it's not me."

She swiftly peered around for signs of life that signaled someone would come to stop her, but the courtyard remained empty. There was not a soul was within sight. The fountain spurted effortlessly, gurgling in a steady flow. For surely that was a good omen that the ring would be safe.

Just to be safe, she stuck her feet in the water to insure she wouldn't be risking catching hypothermia or something related. The water was slightly chilly, but it wasn't freezing. She set her face into a mask of determination and breathed deeply. She could do this. When she got it out, she was going to grab her bag, and make a run for it before anyone caught her dripping about. She took a deep breath…

_one…_

_two…_

_three…_

Chilled water ran up her body on all sides. Her whole body became enveloped with the cold and her hair spilled out from its chignon. Her dress absorbed and became quickly weighted down with the water. Her feet met the tiled bottom and she felt something prick her foot. That was it! Instantly her hand reached down under her and she grabbed the troublesome ring.

She broke up over the surface ecstatic and slipped the ring back on. She was pleased until a voice interrupted her silent celebration.

"Miss."

Frantically she whipped around to look up at the disbelieving eyes of Baljeet Rai.

~xXxXx~

This was not good.

"Miss?" Baljeet asked her.

Ginger stared at him with wide deer-like eyes. Busted.

"Ma'am, excuse me, but who are you and what are you doing in the fountain?"

Ginger blinked. Huh?

Baljeet blinked. A cricket chirped.

He blinked again.

"Miss?"

He didn't recognize her?

She frowned. Had they not been attending the same schools for ten years? Did they not have exactly the same group of friends?

Hm.

Perhaps it was the hair; it was sopping wet and reached her hips.

Or it could be the whole haven't-seen-each-other-for-eight-years thing.

"Ma'am, I repeat, who are you and what are you doing in the fountain? If you can't give me a name I'm going to have to ask you to leave."

Ginger opened her mouth, "It's G-"She paused. What if he told everyone that she was in the fountain? What would they think? What would he think? Would she get in trouble with the staff? Would they fine her? Oh God…What if her **mom** found out?

This would not do.

Crossing her fingers behind her back, and thanking the heavens for multilingual ex-roommates and family history lessons she finished, "It's _Luya Kiyohara_." While it wasn't her name in English exactly, at least she could say she wasn't lying. Sort of. She probably should have gone with a more common name like Anna or Theresa, but integrity wouldn't let her follow completely through. Besides, she was _technically_ telling the truth.

Looking up at her interrogator, Ginger quickly noticed that the wall she had just been on was at least six feet from the watery floor with no easily accessible exit except for a decoratively placed set of rocks on the far side.

"Could you give me a hand out of here?"

She really didn't want to swim.

Luckily though, Baljeet gave her his hand over the fountain. She gripped his hand and he helped pull her over the extent of the wall.

"Thank you."

He studied her for a second, "I believe you were due to tell me why exactly you jumped in that fountain."

"You wouldn't believe me if I told you."

He raised his eyebrows, and then to her surprised, shrugged.

"I've done and seen many crazy things in my life. Try me."

"I had to save my grandma's ring."

"That sounds like a flimsy excuse for swimming to me. Couldn't you have just asked for help from management?"

Ginger rolled her eyes, and waved her ringed hand in his face, "And risk water damage? It's made of wood and I bet it's at least twice your age. What's a better excuse-I was drunk?"

He spoke dryly, "I doubt it. Apart from the fact that your breath does not reek of alcohol, you also seem to have rather good agility for a 'supposed' drunk."

She snickered, "Well what can I say; I just happen to handle my alcohol really well."

"Uh huh..."

"Mmmhmm."

"Alright Ms. Kiyohara," Baljeet seemed satisfied enough with her answer, "Then are you a friend of the bride or groom?"

"Both. I came for my sister who had to work. She's a good friend with their older sister Candace and I believe she's acquainted with the couple." True enough, Stacy had a ton of work, and rarely came to the United States anymore because of her job.

Baljeet's face scrunched in thought, "Who's your sister?"

Ginger laughed nervously, fingers twisiting behind her back. "She's a…political activist." Did a government-reforming politician count as a political activist?

"Huh…" He tapped his chin, "I can't recall any friends of Candace that ring a bell. What's her name?"

"Julia," she said without a hitch. Actually, it was Stacy Julia Hirano, but who was really checking?

"Last name?"

"Meyers." Or it would be in five months.

Baljeet shook his head, "I can't think of anyone that comes to mind."

"Oh no," Ginger mumbled sarcastically, "The great Baljeet Rai cannot think. What is this world coming to?"

"You know who I am?" Baljeet looked at her apprehensively. Gingers straightened up. _Shoot…_She forgot, strangers weren't supposed to know each other.

She scoffed. In any other case, but he was sort of world famous. He had to be either had to be a naïve idiot or overly cautious then, she concluded. "I read about you in _International Science Weekly_, not to mention I saw the main article about you in _Time_ last year."

"Ah," he nodded. "That would make sense."

_Good save._ Ginger's relaxed her shoulders in relief, but stopped when they hurt. Her muscles must have been getting stiff from her little dive. Ginger sat up from her perch on the wall. She jumped to her feet and started to circle her arms around.

"What are you doing?"

"Well, my muscles are becoming sore, and I'm getting cold so …" Ginger knelt down to move the blood circulation in her legs.

"Here." Ginger looked up to see a jacket being handed down to her.

She stared at it. "You know that might get ruined with all the water on me."

He spoke nonchalantly, "I can buy a new one." And the truth was, Ginger knew, he probably could.

"Thank you."

As long as she lived, she never held a conversation this long with Baljeet. Even through her infatuation stage, she hadn't done more than gaze at him across the classroom. A greeting was rare—she was nothing more than Isabella's friend to him. So it was fair to say she found it more than ironic in this fleeting moment of realization that they passed more words now than in a span of the last sixteen years.

A breeze went by and passed over Ginger's wet legs. While the air was a rather warm seventy degrees, it was still the night and Ginger was very much wet. She needed to get moving and warm her body up.

"Well Mr. Rai care to accompany me for a walk?"

"A walk?"

The young man's face became confused at the out-of-the-blue offer so she supplied, "You don't have to come, but I need to dry up."

"Why don't we go inside then?"

"Like this!" She motioned to herself and him. "How am I supposed to explain? What are people going to think when I come in dripping wet, wearing no shoes, hair a mess, with a dry man's tuxedo jacket on? Or when you come along dry as day? What am I supposed to say? That I jumped in the water just for kicks?"

His lips cracked a smile, "I suppose…what was it you mentioned earlier about being drunk?"

"Ugh!"

~xXxXx~

Somehow they ended up talking for hours under the midsummer night sky.

She told him about her family-about her sister and mother. How "Julia" was deeply devoted to her work and change. How she despised fake politicians and worked to seek change in the government system. She laughed when recounted to him how her realist sister fell for a laidback guitarist back in high school; how the two broke up on friendly terms because they weren't sure if they could handle the long-distance. Then how they met years later at a charity event and rekindled their relationship. How he proposed last year and they were getting married in December. She briefly mentioned her late father, but she told him about her mother, the strict and ethical sports-medicine doctor who had single-handedly raised her two daughters when her husband passed away from cancer.

He explained to her how he had left America at twenty to start his business in India and how he branched out to the rest of Asia and the rest of the world. He told her how people thought he was insane, and he very nearly believed them. He explained that his friends and family that waited for him in Danville were what prompted his return home.

She told him about college. She told him about the small school in California that lived in its own bubble. She recalled that at first she missed her home in the northeast before she acclimated to the sun "Three hundred days a year!" She briefed over those few years to her attendance at the University of Chicago, her dream, during medical school. Then she laughed as she recounted how she gave little time into her social life and relaxing, leaving her roommates to stage interventions.

He told her vignettes from his childhood. He explained he grew up with the newlyweds (she feigned ignorance to this information) since he was eight, and told stories about the two that she had never heard. He mentioned an obsession, which lasted from preschool to college, with getting the perfect grade. He explained that two brothers made him more confident and they were the ones who inspired him to finish college early, because he refused to drop out, to trek the world of science. He admitted that he had another friend (most likely Buford) who inspired him because he didn't take the word 'no' too lightly. He chuckled as he recounted recent tales of his parent's attempts to set him up with a nice Indian girl (Ginger scoffed).

So she told him about her work now. How she had just finished residency and was going to be taking over soon. She told him a few of her favorite cases. Like saving the woman going through a heart attack, the lawyer with the lead poisoned alcohol, or the dentist with the holed out esophagus. It was the cases when she made all the difference that she felt happiest. Nothing had ever given her the emotions she felt when she strengthened a person's hold to earth. Healing these people, backing her sister, assisting her mother, and being the backbone to the girls was a life that contented her.

"You know, I think I've got you pegged, Ms. Kiyohara," he mentioned as they treaded along a now dirt path.

"Do you?" She tilted her head to look at his lax form inquisitively.

"Yep." He stuck his hands in his pockets. "You live to take care of people. Your mom, Julia, your friends, and, most recently, your patients."

Ginger shrugged, "Yes, that's me definitely, but I don't mind. I like taking care of people."

"But what about you?" His voice changed, more out of curiosity than anything, yet it almost sounded as if he cared. "You mentioned that you have no family members or close friends nearby…Who takes care of you, Luya?"

He dropped the surname. Startled, Ginger froze, "I take care of myself," she said quickly.

For a while, it was silent as Ginger's heart tripled in rate.

~xXxXx~

Baljeet stared at her rapidly moving figure. Matters had gone from simple to complicated in a matter of mere seconds. In the beginning, she was just an excuse; that was all. When he'd come outside the hall to escape the rather intense Garcia cousins, he saw a mop of black hair dip under the barrier of the fountain. First he thought she must have been crazy. Then he quickly found out that she was calm and level-headed, and extremely interesting character. She was his reason to avoid the Garcia girls. The respect that developed soon afterwards had surprised him. The subtle attraction he felt (and blamed on the pretenses that it had to do with the meet at a wedding cliché) blew him away. Perhaps she could be more. But in the past few hours, he saw more than that. He discovered a woman who was independent, strong-willed, and generous. She gave to her sister, mother, friends, and patients. But she was alone, living on her own in the city, and it bothered him.

He knew all too well what that was like after all. When he'd just entered the business, he chose to immerse himself in work breaking the solidarity he shared with his friends. He based himself away from his family's inhabitants that extended from the Himalayas and up to the north in Kashmir to work out of Dubai. Then Hong Kong. Tokyo. Berlin. New York. And when he finally came home at his friends' urgings, he felt aloof among them. While they had busied themselves in their lives, he had grown out of it. His close friendships hadn't experienced the changes between the relations of many of his friends and made him the outsider in the inside room.

He brooded this, unsettled by the change in events. But when saw her turn the corner, shoes bobbing in her hands, his sped up pace to stop to her.

~xXxXx~

It was especially late at night when the pair made their way near the entrance of the Inn where the party was being held at. They passed the reception area to notice that quite a few guests had already opted to leave. Phineas and Isabella had left already for their Honeymoon and the residing celebrants were dancing to slow classics or chatting away at tables. Ginger caught sight of Candace's little daughter Amanda sleeping on a row of chairs while her parents hovered nearby, each holding a baby boy. They were laughing with Ferb and his date at something that one of them had said. She deftly slipped in to grab her clutch before her friends would take notice of her presence and question her whereabouts that evening.

As she made her way out of the exit, the clock on the wall reminded her that it was time that she started to make her way back home. Chicago was several hours away and she wanted to be home before the sun rose. Though it was a given that she was welcomed to stay at the Hirano house, Ginger was meeting several colleagues tomorrow night for dinner and she preferred getting home before daylight to avoid traffic and a welcome opportunity to sleep in.

She still had yet to completely dry off from her dip in the fountain, and her dress remained considerably damp. The thin layer of dew that welcomed itself to settle over the ground as the moon made way to reach its high-point did no good for her as she shivered from the slight chill brought to the air. She pulled the jacket around her tighter. There were no lights on this part of the path. Fortunately, the waxing moon overhead provided a substantial amount of light while they went forward. She listened to the soft thuds her feet made when they met the smooth cement and the pounding of Baljeet's shoes. The tempo of their steps-

_thud _**thud**_ thud _**thud** _thud _**thud** _thud _**thud**

-in four count measure were gradually lulling her senses. A glow of lights appeared around a bend and she started to make out the parking lot ahead. She paused her stride and turned to face Baljeet whom had stopped next to her.

"I guess this is where I'll take my leave. I have to head home now. It's late and I have a few hours of a drive from here to my apartment." She headed to the direction of her car.

**thud thud thud**

"That's fine, I'll walk you to your car." Ginger was mildly surprised when he didn't take her offer to leave, but didn't comment when he rushed up to join her.

Her car was parked on the edge of the circular lot that was surrounded by a sidewalk. Ginger followed it while Baljeet walked beside her. He didn't say anything and she let the silence become their conversation.

When they reached her little black Hyundai, Ginger opened her clutch and fished out her keys. With the click of a button, she opened her car and tossed her bag in the passenger seat, keeping her shoes in her left hand.

She looked at Baljeet still standing on the sidewalk. "Your jacke-"

"Keep it."

"Errr…thank you." She winced-that sounded awkward.

He shrugged, "It was no problem."

The cicadas and crickets chirping in the background highlighted the uncomfortable silence.

"Yes, well…" She crossed the front of her car to the driver's seat and felt his eyes on her, "I," she faltered, "I will just be going now…" She didn't understand what happened. When she'd run off, Baljeet had come after her and started talking to her, giving no word to their last topic. They spent at least an hour talking easily without hitch, then when she had made motions to go the camaraderie between them had fallen apart. His language had become polite, but reserved; and she wasn't sure quite what to say to him or what had gotten him worked up.

He nodded. "It was nice to meet you."

Ginger slid into the driver's seat and turned the engine on.

The radio blared to life.

"_With only five minutes to midnight, we'll be playing smooth music for your ride home…"_

An old love song poured out of her car's speakers, but her attention on it was lost. Her focus wasn't on pushing the gas to go home or listening to the soft melody that sailed from her speakers, but it was on the man still standing on the sidewalk as he saw her off, trying to figure what had changed in the last several years and define the complexity he had become to her. He was after all, the same man who thought she was a new acquaintance, and hadn't recognized her as an old friend. Who had shown her little attention in the past, but now was making an act of chivalry. She hadn't seen him in eight years and probably wouldn't see him again for many years. She wouldn't admit it, but in the recess of her mind she was troubled that she had spent this night with him and he wouldn't even know her name. He would most likely forget how she looked, and even if he remembered what she had told him, it was merely the story of a stranger, not Ginger Hirano. When they were growing up, he never once held a conversation with her, or she with him, but the evening had been one long conversation. And tonight, he was the man that she had told a huge fat lie to. Sure her words were real, but Luya Kiyohara was not.

And she wasn't sure when she accepted it, but

He was the same exact man she still liked after all this time.

As she lifted her foot to press the gas, it all made sense.

Only she didn't know what possessed her to resolve the problem the way she did. Perhaps people would believe her if she blamed it on the alcohol. Didn't alcohol lower inhibitions?

Or perhaps she could blame the time-because it was indeed very late. She could say her cognitive skills weren't functioning to their capabilities. One couldn't possibly process their thoughts proficiently so late at night.

Then again.

Maybe, just maybe, it was the surge of courage and adrenaline she was feeling that drove her to pull the key out of the ignition and step out the door with her heels still dangling in her left hand. Perhaps _that _was what drove her to step up to Baljeet ignoring his bemused expression to say—

"There's just one more thing I want you to think about before I go." For once, even Ginger Hirano would have a climatic end to her own crazy summer adventure.

"What is it?"

Ginger grabbed his tie and yanked him down to her level.

"_This."_

She smashed her lips against his without a second thought, and everything disappeared around them at once.

**-One-Two-Three-**

Ginger pushed her lips gently against his, moving them in a slow, measured pace. The young man's eyes burst wide open in surprise. She could smell his aftershave as it invaded her senses and it made the butterflies forming in her stomach flutter.

**-Four-Five-Six-**

She took a small step closer and raised her left hand to up to his chest, bunching the material of his shirt in her closed fist. _Plop! _Her shoes tumbled on the ground forgotten while his eyes slid completely shut on the same beat.

**-Seven-Eight-Nine-Ten-Eleven-**

Baljeet responded back. He returned her kiss with the more force than she gave him. It amused him when he recognized that she tasted of champagne and wedding cake. He found that kissing her was _amazing _and so very_ unique_. There were none of those fireworks or moments of tumultuous emotion like he had heard Isabella gush about one too many times, but instead there was an odd sense of familiarity and comfort. It was a quiet contentment that settled deep within him. Moving his right hand, he aimed to place it on the small of her back to bring her closer-

_**-Twelve.**_

She pushed herself out of his enclosing arms. Her cheeks were faintly flushed with a tint of soft pink and her breath lingered in the midnight air; he stood immobile, eyes wide in utter bewilderment, as he attempted to process the last several seconds.

"Good-bye Baljeet," she whispered in low tones. She glued her eyes on the ground shyly, "It was nice to meet you, too. Perhaps, we'll meet up again." _For real. _She stood on her toes and pressed a chaste kiss to his cheek.

There was no looking back.

Within less than a minute she had driven off, leaving Baljeet standing on the concrete sidewalk watching her red taillights flash on the lone road.

~xXxXx~

A smile.

It felt like the sun was shining and the world was just _glorious. _Didn't Louis Armstrong write a song about this? Green trees and blooming red roses?

He couldn't stop the smile that made its way onto his face because the world was perfect.

Until he paused.

There were two objects heaped haphazardly on the sidewalk in front of him.

Identical copies of each other with black ribbons and what he considered long daggers, Baljeet's eyes widened.

She left behind her shoes.

**The End**


End file.
